A World and Two Hearts Apart
by Nayuki-Bunny
Summary: "It isn't the end that matters, nor the beginning," she said softly, gaze distant. "It's the middle and how exactly it got us from start to finish. And that's a long story..." / Edward and Winry drabbles.
1. Beginnings

**no FMA fanfiction. wow. how could I have not written any?? and after this I need to write "The Girl Who Leapt Through Time" fiction too... anyway, because I am so ashamed I didn't write anything for one of my all time favorite animes, I'm writing 100 drabbles. I suppose Roy and Riza will have to have their own separate oneshot in the near future... and I ****nicked the 100 themes from online somewhere, in case you were wondering.**

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#001- Beginnings

The beginning was spun from golden days, backyard swings, and neat picket fences. That was the time when the biggest worry in her young life was that her two best friends were too busy to come out and play. That she'd have to wait for the sunshine to melt into inky stars and back into runny watercolors before she could knock at their door and ask again.

But the beginning was also spun from dark magic, blood, and fire. That was the time where she stopped pretending things would be the same forever and took to tinkering with constants: metal and wires and screws, unyielding and apathetic to missing or dead parents. Unyielding and apathetic to souls tied to threads of blood and sky-high ambitions in an automail fist.

She knows the beginnings well- they murmur to her from ashes and thick books that gather dust. But when will it end? she asks herself. When they are all flesh and blood again? When she will no longer have to jump when the phone rings or rifle hurriedly through the mail?

Or will it be when she finally admits that they'll always be a few steps ahead, close enough to see, but too far for her to properly catch up?

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I most likely won't go in order for the list of themes I have, but I will not abandon this!! I hate it when authors ditch perfectly good fics in the middle! anyway, the content of these drabbles will center around Edward and Winry, but not all of them will be romantic. we'll see where this goes...

suggestions or critiques? go ahead and tell me, I'll be waiting.


	2. Choices

**I hope I can finish this, I really want to... oh, and the writing styles may change from drabble to drabble. this one boasts absolutely nothing of my writing talent, but it was fun to write all the same. I hope you enjoy it!**

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#086- Choices

He mumbles it, shuffling his feet.

"What was that, Al?"

She waits for him to answer, twisting the daisies in her hands.

The mumble is audible now, but barely.

"But _I_ wantto."

She sighs, but he cuts in.

"That doesn't matter, Al."

"But I _want _to, please, Winry-"

Two pairs of eyes shift to her instantly, one pleading and another firm.

She coughs once then looks away.

"You were it last time, Al, I'm sorry…"

His face crumples in dejection.

"But brother almost _always _gets to-"

"That's 'cause I'm oldest."

He says it and that means that.

"But you're _always_ oldest! That's not fair!"

Or not.

"I don't see why it's such a big deal-"

They scramble to correct her.

"Of course it's a big deal!"

"A very big deal!"

"We're practicing for the future!"

"Oh, pick me!"

"What? But I already said-"

"Pick me!"

"That's cheating!"

The daisies are starting to wilt from her nervous twisting.

"Ed, Al…"

They are too intent scuffling.

"She wouldn't pick you, bed-wetter!"

"You wet the bed too!"

There is an awkward silence.

"I don't do it all the time!"

And they resume.

"Get off!"

"Make me!"

"Stop!"

They freeze at her shrill voice.

Her fists are clenched and the daisies littered on the grass.

They stare.

"I won't marry either of you, how's that?"

She storms off.

Edward lets go of Alphonse's shirt.

Alphonse lets go of Edward's hair.

Neither go after her.

Then,

"She just didn't want to tell you she likes me better."

Alphonse tackles Edward and they continue .

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I liked this one and I'll like you too if you leave a comment :)


	3. Drink

**I know the previous two shots were more trio-centric as opposed to EdwardxWinry, but have no fear, this shot is a nice melancholy piece for the two of them. I'm sure you can guess the timeframe for this one...**

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#060- Drink

The pub is dimly lit and smells like sweat and cigarette smoke, but at the moment he could care less.

A foreign shoulder jostles his roughly, but he ignores it, head throbbing too much for him to toss his customary retort with a thick tongue. Instead, he wordlessly pushes his empty glass toward the bartender, the ice clinking quietly amidst the dull buzz of conversation in the background.

His head hurts like hell and he knows his eyes are bloodshot, but he gropes for the refilled glass again anyway. Al had left an hour earlier, taking his soothing words and gentle voice with him to leave the unresponsive form alone to mull over blurry thoughts.

He had wanted to leave this world so badly. To feel the familiar cool breeze from familiar open fields. To be able to clap his hands and spark energy to life from nothing. To see everyone again, even that blasted Mustang, but especially Al and the old hag Pinako and then there was…

_Her breath was warm on his cheek, soft lips just brushing over his ear. He stiffened from the unexpected contact but her whispered words flushed a faded pink on his face. Mumbling something back, he breathed in that comforting scent of oil and lavender; desperately wishing she wouldn't let him go, not this time…_

Now he was here. Again. And that selfish, blazing desire of his still smolders in his chest.

Someone else pushes against him, yanking him out of his reverie and slopping his drink over his front. Cursing in disgust, he turns to snap at the offender, but stops short, choking on his words.

"Sorry!" the girl calls over her shoulder, the long, bright hair whipping out of sight before his hazy vision can adjust and his mouth can function. He inhales sharply and the smell of oil and lavender meets his muddled senses before vanishing abruptly.

He stares after her for a while longer, temples pounding in tandem to her long-gone footsteps. Then slowly he turns back and gulps another burning mouthful of amber liquid, willing himself not to run after her.

He had just had too many drinks, that was all.

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yeah, I'm mean...

**hope you enjoyed, leave a review on your way out. **


	4. Who?

**I LIVE. I promised I won't ditch this collection, and I won't! ...I honestly have too many drabble collections... well, thank you all for being patient with me, please enjoy!**

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#076- Who?

"Who?" he repeats, trying to keep his voice level and fists unclenched. This attempt, however, doesn't prove fruitful and he grits his teeth as his nails dig painfully into his palm.

"Why does it matter to you?" Winry hisses back, her usually placid gaze contorted into shards of ice.

He swallows the knotting unease gnawing at his innards and falls silent, eyes widening slightly. The question takes him aback because, really, he's not so sure himself. He can sense her mounting satisfaction as he sputters a semblance of a response, and fairly snarls. It's his turn to be satisfied as her hardened expression wavers.

"It just does," he says, spitting out the words.

But because Winry is cruel and knows how to rile him, her furious demeanor vanishes in the span of seconds, replaced by a haughty arrogance. "Oh really?" she taunts. "It _just _does?"

He bites down on his lip, resisting the urge to stem her acidic mockery. He knows that any further retaliation will probably backfire when she's in this kind of cold fury. He sees her take in his silence with an arctic kind of approval, and she turns her back to him, flipping back her short hair. When she speaks up again, voice tight, he misses her strange expression.

"It was James. And I don't care if he kisses me again."

When he gets sent home from school the next day for getting in a fistfight, scuffed but triumphant, he lets Winry tearfully yell at him, wincing when she presses antiseptic extra hard into his cuts.

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**because we know little Edward would totally be furious if some random guy just kissed little Winry XD**

**review?**


	5. If

**I keep telling myself that the shorter I make these, the easier it'll be to go through all the prompts... but it's so hard to shorten things!**

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#082- If

[There are a lot of (if)s in this story.]

Every day had managed to slow, to fall, into a repetitive routine that locked her into stilted, limited movement. Get up, work, maybe eat (if) she felt like it, work some more, fall asleep sprawled over diagrams and blueprints or drag herself into bed. Then wake up to an empty house and start all over. But she didn't dare deviate from this pattern- (if) she did, she might have time to think.

Think and wonder and tear herself apart with the endless questions.

[(If) I was stronger, would you still be gone?]

_Metal is metal_, the screws and bolts and spare parts scattered about tell her as she painstakingly measures wire. _It stays the same_ _and who do you think you are to change this? You can't make it better. _She tells them that she can try, she has to try, she will try to change it because one day someone might need her to. _He's gone, _they cackle in metallic rasps. _He doesn't need you anymore._

Her hands slip.

[(If) I was smarter, would you be better off?]

She wonders sometimes (if) he still carries his pocket watch. She wonders (if) he still reads the message engraved in there. She wonders what it reminds him of. And while she wonders she stares at photos and reads and rereads letters, murmuring the words and her wishes and wetting them with her tears.

[(If) you came back, would you remember?]

And every night, she wakes up, silent sobs wracking her shuddering frame and fingers splayed to grope in the dark for something, someone, that isn't there.

[(If) I didn't love, would it still hurt this badly?]

There are a lot of (if)s in this story, and almost no definites.

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I felt like being cruel to Winry. yeah, I'm a bad person...**

**this is one possibility if Edward and Al never did come back and Winry broke down. I know it's not the best written piece (I stopped before it became too melodramatic), but I hope you all liked it anyway :D  
**


	6. Heart

**hi :D**

**it's summer vacation now, so I'm going to update (and finish) pretty much all my fanfiction. that's the plan. also, I'm going to be catching up on the FMA "Brotherhood" series this summer, so expect some shots based off of that! thanks to everyone who is still hanging on to this collection!**

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He knew that, technically, he didn't have a heart. He was, quite literally, hollow.

There was nothing of substance, nothing tangible contained within himself. He was a walking, talking suit of armor with nothing but a small seal of dried blood tying him to this world.

If you thought about it, it'd seem a wonder that he could feel at all. How was it that he could feel compassion from a kitten's pleading gaze? How was it that he could feel sharp fear when staring at the end of a polished wrench? How was it that he could he feel glad seeing a tight, grim mouth curve into an easy smile?

He never really understood how it could be. He had answers after poring over various thick tomes, asking alchemists, and even cautiously venturing the topic with his brother. He had answers and none of them made sense.

He clenched his fists.

If he was so empty inside, a vessel for faded memories and a wispy soul, he should not have been able to register, to _feel_, the dark, lonely pain clouding her eyes. He should not have been able to _feel _the frustration in his tense shoulders and downcast face. He should not have been able to _feel _a faint hopelessness within himself as they left yet again-

"Be safe," he heard Winry call out. Her smile was brave as he and Edward waved. And then, quieter as they turned, "…don't keep me waiting so long this time."

He should not have, but he did. He could feel her words, her love, her hurting heart.

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**just a piece from Al's perspective on how the he and Edward were always leaving Winry. it's bound to take a toll on the poor girl :(**

**review, please?**


	7. Birthday

**so I decided a more lighthearted piece was in order! I didn't have an exact idea of where in the story's timeline this takes place, so you all are free to choose. enjoy!**

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#091- Birthday

There was a faint buzzing noise in his ear and it was really starting to piss him off.

Edward frowned slightly, eyes still closed, and shifted from his back to his side. There was a brief pause, and then the buzzing increased in volume.

"Damn fly," he mumbled, fishing a hand out from under the bedclothes and swatting at the fly's general direction. The buzzing morphed into a yelp, and the fly swatted him back. "Ow!" Edward grunted, sitting up to rub at his smarting ear. "What the hell?"

"Brother!"

"Al?" Squinting in the darkness, Edward could make out the blurry outline of his brother's armor. He scanned the hotel room, blinking sleepily. There was nothing out of place. Sighing, Edward turned to Al. "It's the middle of the night. What the hell are you waking me up for?"

"Brother, something's wrong," Al pressed urgently.

"Wrong?"

"Yeah-"

"Al. Are there any homunculi lurking around?"

"No-"

"Did you suddenly find the philosopher's stone?"

"No, but-"

"Is there any milk in the room?"

"No, there isn't, but-"

Edward's eyes narrowed. "Then what was so important that you had to-"

"Brother, it was Winry's birthday yesterday."

Edward stared. "…shit."

Al wrung at his hands. "We didn't even call," he half-wailed. "We're such horrible people to forget-"

"Al."

"-and she'd been going on for forever how she wanted a new power drill-"

"Al."

"-didn't even send a card-"

"Al!"

"SHE HATES US."

"Dammit, Al! Shut up! I have a plan."

Al brightened. "You do?"

Edward grinned. "It's foolproof."

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Pinako awoke to the sound of the telephone ringing. "Who on earth is calling so early?" she grumbled.

She heard Winry rush to pick up the hall's phone (that girl barely slept), answering excitedly. Her cheer wore off relatively quickly, however, and she began to give monosyllabic replies. Frowning, Pinako fumbled for the phone on her nightstand. Edward's voice filled her ear.

"-and the time zones are all off here, Winry. It's nearly noon and we've only just finished. We were studying these texts for so long, we haven't even gotten any sleep-"

"Brother," Pinako heard Al hiss. "Your plan was to wait and make up excuses?"

There was a muffled noise and a yelp. Edward's voice came back on the receiver. "I hope you're not mad, Winry. We've been working so hard…"

Pinako rolled her eyes. The boy was laying it on extra thick.

There was a feminine sigh in response. "No, I'm not mad. Tell Al to stop sniffling in the background."

Pinako grinned to herself, quietly hanging up. Winry's voice drifted clearly across the hallway.

"Mhm. Really, I understand. No, Granny's asleep. Okay, then. Yeah. And by the way, Ed. My birthday isn't until tomorrow." There was a long pause. When Winry spoke again, Pinako could hear the smirk in her voice. "I want the best, most expensive power drill you can find, 'kay?"

Pinako chuckled. "I've raised the girl well."

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**review please!**


	8. Valentine

**just wanted to get something out for the special day today! hope this makes you crack a smile, please excuse the sloppy job XD;;**

**raindropdays, this is for you :)**

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#094- Valentine

She wakes up one morning, the weight of It resting heavily over her heart.

She knew that It would come eventually. It always does, after all, try as she might to run away or simply ignore It. But It won't have any of that. It's thoughtful. It does its very best in the upcoming weeks to slap her in the face with reminders and punch her in the gut with every lovelorn gaze she sees.

Valentine's Day. Less popularly known as "Winry Is Forever Single Day."

Technically, this day still has 24 hours and the sun will still rise and set. This day is really no different than any other: she has work and chores to do, a bit of grocery shopping, and nobody to waste money on her with chocolate and flowers.

As they shouldn't.

She polishes the automail arm she's assembling extra forcefully, frowning. It was common knowledge that men only bought meaningless things and unnecessarily pampered their women on this day for one reason. Her brow wrinkles into deeper furrows. She isn't any silly, simpering girl to be so foolishly enticed by trinkets and insincere eternal vows. She's strong. Independent. Capable. She wipes at her cheek, accidentally smudging it with oil, and pauses.

But… maybe she's a bit lonely too. And underappreciated. Possibly.

She sighs, setting the prosthetic limb down and stretching. What would it take to get something meaningful from someone special? And not just today, but any day? The days he managed to come home, at least…

She doesn't notice the soft footsteps approaching the door, nor does she hear the knock echoing against the wood. A familiar voice resounds in the stillness of the room.

"Are you busy?"

She twists to look over her shoulder, her features slackening with surprise. "Ed," she says, quickly shoving aside any lingering Valentine-themed thoughts. "I thought you'd still be asleep, especially after your long trip yesterday."

He shrugs, stepping inside and sipping from a glass of Granny's lemonade. The bag he's holding bumps against his leg. "Yeah, I figured I'd spend as much time at home as I could. Sleep can wait."

Normally, she'd chastise him for such irrational thinking, but she's stupidly wondering if her hair is messy, why she wore a tube top when she feels bloated, if her face is clean, if she should start yelling to distract him-

"I got you something," Edward says, setting the glass down and rummaging through the bag. "The old lady said you were acting weird, so I figured you'd want to cheer up."

She blinks for a lack of something better to say and wordlessly takes the parcel from his hands. She can feel him watching her as she unwraps it, and she sucks in a breath when the paper falls away.

She traces the grooves of the case. "…Screwdriver set…" she breathes.

He starts muttering, looking away and completely missing her expression. "You know, since you'd been complaining about needing a new one, and it's kinda annoying when you yell while you tune me up, plus today you-"

Her head jerks up and he flinches.

"What's this supposed to mean?"

He stares. "What?"

She stares back. "You bought me something. A gift. Today."

He's giving her that look. The same one he uses when he's half-convinced that she's smiling sweetly with a wrench clasped behind her back. His lips part and his eyes are wary.

"So I bought you crap," he says slowly. "What's that got to do with anything?"

Her eyes narrow and his fingers twitch as they reach for his glass. "Edward Elric," she begins, mentally calculating how long it'd take for her to rip off his automail in the most painful way possible. "Are you asking for sex?"

She's thankful that the liquid spewing projectile-style from his mouth is not aimed towards her.

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**this is alternatively titled "in which Winry remembers and Edward forgets." I almost forgot today was Valentine's Day, myself...**

**this is just something really silly that came to mind, and I hope you liked it despite its blah-ness. drop me a review!**


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